


One Calm Summer Night

by Loki_Laufeyson



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Gen, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 17:49:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5173469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loki_Laufeyson/pseuds/Loki_Laufeyson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A missing scene.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Calm Summer Night

**Author's Note:**

> This was cobbled together in my upset state so I may have to come back and edit or even delete. 
> 
> The title is taken from the poem Richard Cory, a man who appeared fine to everyone else but was not. Because, apparently no one noticed Thomas' pain (bullshit).

He opens his eyes slowly and he thinks _I've failed_.

He stares at the cracks in the ceiling. Someone beside him shifts, not yet realising he's awoken.

_I've failed again._

There's a crushing weight on his chest, one that had been temporarily lifted as he'd opened his wrists into the warm water. It's back now, heavier than before. A sob tries to escape from under it and he's too late to bite back the sound.

"Mr. Barrow?" Phyllis Baxter says from his bedside. Sweet, forgiving Phyllis who had stood over him as he slipped in and out of consciousness. _"We found him in the bathtub."_ He'd heard her say and, later, _"I'm a fool for not seeing it sooner."_. He hated her, in that moment, more than he's hated anyone. Later, he'll feel ashamed but right now he cannot.

He stares at the ceiling instead.

"Thomas?" She tries again.

The concern in her voice makes his stomach roll. _I don't want your pity_ , he thinks, and still doesn't respond. But it's not anger that maintains his silence. Not hours ago, he had _known_ he was saying his last words, taking his final breath. He'd spent them all and, now, there is nothing left in him to give. _They have it all already_. His rivals, his lovers, the War and, most of all, the Abbey. _There's not a piece of me left for myself. I couldn't even have this._

He feels listless and weak. Absently, he wonders how much blood he lost; _not_ _enough_.

Understanding that she'll get nothing out of him, Baxter fills the silence, "Dr. Clarkson will be back in a few hours to see how you are. He says that Andy and I found you just in time, any longer would have meant... Well, you were very lucky." _Lucky_ "Carson knows, and has informed His Lordship but we're trying to keep it quiet otherwise." _That's another mortal sin I've committed._ "I'm sorry that you felt you had to do this Thomas. I never thought- I should've realised - I'm sorry."

She ends on a sigh. There are no words to fix this, she knows.

"I'll leave you be now," Baxter gathers her sewing and stands, sorrow and resignation laced in her voice, "Try and get some rest."

When the door closes, it crashes over him like a wave; the realisation that he is still here. The realistion that there is still another day to face. And another after that. The weight presses on his chest until he can scarcely breath. His shoulders begin to shake and his vision blurs.

There's nothing else for it. Thomas finally gives in, and weeps.

**Author's Note:**

> I hate that Thomas ever got to this point and I hate the way it was treated. My intention isn't to make anyone feel worse but just to give Thomas the time and emotions he deserved.


End file.
